Meet Me at Stardusk
by MarieQuiteContrarie
Summary: Each August, Storybrooke holds the Sky Fire Festival—a 5-day fair in honor of the Perseids Meteor Shower where only one couple finds True Love. Darach Gold and Belle French arrange to meet each night so neither of them will be alone. But what starts as a favor soon grows into something more. Co-written with TrueRumbelle
1. On My Own

Summary: Each August, Storybrooke holds the Sky Fire Festival—a 5-day fair in honor of the Perseids Meteor Shower where only one couple finds True Love. Pragmatic, shy Darach Gold doesn't want to go. He's already missed his chance at True Love-some people are just meant to be alone. Bookish, romantic Belle French can't wait for her first festival and arranges to meet with Gold each night so neither of them will be alone. But what starts out as keeping each other company soon grows into something more.

 _Magical realism Rumbelle AU. We do not own Once Upon A Time or its characters._

 **NIGHT ONE: 6:00 p.m.**

For Darach Gold, the annual Sky Fire Festival was a joyless occasion.

It was a reminder of his bleak, empty love life and his embarrassing romance with the only woman who had ever cared for him. Milah had tossed him away like yesterday's trash. Not that he could blame her. The man she'd left him for was taller, younger, and far more handsome.

 _Nonsense._ He could almost hear Jefferson scolding him, saying that his relationship with Milah hadn't been real love and that she had been the loser—not the other way around. But that's what best friends did—lied to spare your feelings, even when you were at your worst.

Darach dragged his feet around the shop floor, dreaming up excuses to forgo the festivities this year. He could invent an illness, dally over a work project, or pretend a pipe had burst at home. He scowled. Gold hated to lie, but Jefferson was just so damn pushy. He was always trying to talk him into some event, party, or outing. The Sky Fire Festival was no different.

Year after year it was the same argument. Darach refused to go and Jefferson began to whine, wheedle, and plead. Eventually Darach would give into Jefferson's good intentions, swallowing past the lump in his throat and the horrible, hollow knowledge that at the end of the five days he would go home—alone—just as he always did, year after year.

Much as he loathed the festival, Darach still found himself standing outside his shop waiting for Jefferson and his family. The only pleasant part of the whole affair would be spending the evening with Grace, his honorary niece and Jefferson and Alice's daughter. He treated his favorite 8-year-old to everything from ice cream dates to trust funds. And since he had no children of his own, her parents graciously allowed him this privilege.

Jefferson and his family came into view, and Darach couldn't resist the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Despite himself, he gave a welcoming wave. He loved Jefferson and Alice dearly. He just wished they were a little less persistent.

"Uncle Darach!" Grace shouted as she ran, embracing Darach so tightly he almost fell. Darach was prepared for the onslaught; he'd rather get knocked to the ground than miss a moment of Grace's affection.

"Thank goodness, Gracie. I was worried your father had once again lost track of time, but I see you and your mother are keeping him on schedule." Darach smirked at Grace as he teased his friend. Jefferson was forever running late. "Remember that time I waited ages for you to arrive but it wasn't until the next year that I actually saw you?"

Opening his mouth in mock offense, Jefferson pretended to be appalled. "I'll have you know that I'm never late; you are merely impatient. And that time you're referring to was New Year's Eve, so don't try and convince anyone that you waited for more than ten minutes. The very next year indeed." Jefferson muttered the last words under his breath but Gold heard him and grinned, elbowing him in the ribs.

Alice clucked her tongue at both men as the four began walking to the festival, setting a relaxed pace. "Don't let him fool you, Darach. I practically had to drag Jefferson out the door with no pants he was so behind." She kissed Darach's cheek and enveloped him in a warm hug, then pulled back to look him in the eyes. "We've missed having you over for Thursday dinners. Grace most of all. I think it's high time you stop hiding in that big house of yours and enjoy the company of your friends; get out and be with people."

Darach felt his stomach twist in discomfort. Alice and Jefferson had been trying for ages to increase his social connections. Why couldn't they understand that he was fine, happy even, living on his own?

"Oh, don't look so stricken," Jefferson said. "Alice and I just want you happy."

"And me too!" Grace shouted, skipping closer to him.

Laughing at the enthusiasm in her little heart-shaped face, Darach squeezed Grace's hand. "What your parents don't understand is that spoiling you and seeing that big, beautiful smile is all I need to be happy," he said in an exaggerated whisper.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep being the favorite, Darach. You'll be the one dealing with her at 16 when she expects her first car to be a Corvette." Alice took Grace's other hand and they all laughed at the joke. "Come on, sweetie. You'll have Uncle Darach all to yourself tomorrow night. Let your dad and him spend some time together." Alice and Grace quickened their pace, entering the fairgrounds.

Darach quirked a dark eyebrow in Jefferson's direction. "Not very subtle, Hatter," he said, using the nickname that referenced the tall, elegant top hats his best friend favored. "Are you and Alice all out of clever turns of phrase? Usually when you twist my arm to do something I have no interest in, you're not so painfully obvious."

"As though subtlety actually worked on you! Hitting you over on the head with a giant sign that says 'I'm going to have fun this year' might work, however." Jefferson snorted. "Maybe this year will surprise us all. You could meet someone special."

Darach shook his head. "I like my life as it is. It's quiet and fulfilling, and I don't need to meet anyone. Some people are just meant to be alone." He regretted the words as soon as he'd said them, already too familiar with the well-worn path this conversation was heading down.

"Not you, my friend. A man who has given so much to help others in this town? No one even knows who they are beholden to. Darach, you're too fine a man for the fates not to reward you with blessings."

Gold continued as if he hadn't heard Jefferson, grumbling as he looked at his own feet. "I met Milah on the final night of the festival and thought it was love. The next August she met Jones on the first evening and we were over. You yammer on and on about True Love and the magic of the festival." He waved a dismissive hand. "It's all bunk and you know it."

"That was years ago. And Milah wasn't the one for you. You said yourself you felt relief when it ended." Jefferson stopped walking and stood in front of Gold, blocking his way. "You know what the real problem is, don't you? You _want_ to believe in true love. You know all these other couples who found true love at the festival—Milah and Jones, Leroy and Astrid, Alice and me. So you thought you met yours and when you discovered you were wrong, you decided true love can't be recognized."

"Because it can't be," Gold barked. "If I was meant to have love, it would have happened by now." He had the sudden urge to yank the sleek red cravat at Jefferson's neck.

"Not if the greatest of all loves is being saved for you." Jefferson's voice was quiet, as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees. "And how could it not be? Just look at that face!" Trying to lighten the somber mood, Jefferson grinned and pinched Darach's cheek hard, like an overzealous relative.

Darach swatted Jefferson's hand away and rubbed his offended cheek. "Come on, _Grandpa_. Let's not keep Alice and Grace waiting."

"Wait." Jefferson laid a hand on his arm. "Don't act like you have a date with the executioner, hmm? Just…humor me, old man. If it's a terrible evening, I won't make you come back…" He trailed off.

"What?" He sighed. "There's a catch, isn't there? There always is with you."

"No catch." Jefferson held up his hands in surrender. "Although you did say you would take Gracie for us tomorrow night so Alice and I can be alone. And I know you are a man of your word."

"That was a low blow, Hatter." Gold poked him with the butt of his cane. "You know I can deny Grace nothing. Besides, someone around here has to keep her in cotton candy and stuffed animals. Things that boring, responsible parents don't allow. But I won't make any promises about the rest of the festival."

"Fair enough," Jefferson said, snickering.

Hastening his steps to catch up to the ladies, Darach lifted his head to the darkening, moonless sky. Tonight and tomorrow _._ He only had to survive two nights. Besides, tomorrow Grace would be a welcome distraction from all the other happy couples and love-seeking hopefuls.

His gut clenched; hope was his greatest fear. He didn't want to believe that love was still possible. It was so much easier to accept the inevitable—he was better off alone.

xoxoxo

Isabella French loaded another stack of favorites onto the growing mountain of books. Chewing her painted thumbnail, she scanned her selections, brow furrowed in concentration. Yes, something was definitely missing. But what? Aha! Determination in her step, she approached the bookshop's small astronomy section, choosing just a few books highlighting planets, constellations, and stars in honor of the occasion. Satisfied, she scribbled the titles down on her checklist and smiled.

Tonight began Storybrooke's annual Sky Fire Festival.

The festival featured five glorious evenings of stargazing. Belle was eager to attend her first celebration—she'd heard snippets and stories about it for practically the entire year since she'd moved from Australia to Maine last September. Every August 9-13, neighbors gathered from all over town to watch the famed Perseids Meteor Showers. Besides the beauty of the skies, there were wonderful activities to engage festival goers of all ages—food carts, crafts, games, and booths for businesses to sell goods and services.

And Belle wasn't just getting to go—she was going to be in the center of the activity by helping to run a booth for the bookshop with her friends Mary Margaret, Emma, and Aurora. Belle loved belonging, and preparing for this event made her feel all lit up inside. She had meaningful work, she had friendship, she had community. Maybe one day she would even find love.

Belle blushed. As famous as the Sky Fire Festival was for its glorious meteors, it was known for something even more rare, precious, and beautiful than falling stars: True Love. So the story went, each year one couple—and only one couple—would meet and fall in love during the festival. If it was True Love, on one of the five nights of the celebration a special, magical occurrence would take place, confirming for one fortunate pair that they had found the one they were born to love.

Some scoffed at the idea, shaking the story off as a myth; nothing more than a legend for dewy eyed romantics and lovers of fairy tales and galaxies far, far away. But Belle knew real people it had happened for. Real people who had met their other half at the festival and gone on to blissful marriages and raising families. Starry-eyed, she sighed. _Perhaps someday…_

"Hey, Belle!"

With a tiny shriek of surprise, Belle tossed the book and the clipboard she'd been holding in the air, sending both items clattering to the ground.

"Woolgathering again, I see," said Emma, raking back her long blonde hair with her red-rimmed sunglasses. She leaned against the book cart and stuck her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you, but it's already dusk and we're running late."

"No, that's all right." Belle shook her head and bent down to pick up the dropped items. "I'm ready to go. I was just collecting these last few books for the festival."

"And dreaming of True Love?" Emma asked with a cheeky smile. She handed Belle the ballpoint pen that had rolled under the book cart.

"I—no—uh—maybe." Belle blushed again, feeling bashful and selfish. She had only just moved to town. Others had been in Storybrooke their whole lives, yearning for that moment when True Love came calling. At last she ventured, "It would be nice to meet someone."

"Don't be embarrassed," said Emma, reading her thoughts. Her friend shrugged. "It's what most people want, whether or not they're willing to admit it. I've been in Storybrooke for six years—longer than some, but for less time than most. I'm still hoping to find the one."

"I know you will, Emma," Belle said, patting her arm with affection. "You deserve to be happy."

"Thanks, Belle." The blonde winked. "So do you. Now let's get the last of these books loaded into my bug. We've got a festival to get to!"

Once at the fairgrounds, Emma parked the car behind the book stand. Aurora and Mary Margaret had almost finished setting up, and together the four ladies added the finishing touches to the attractively stacked books. Practically skipping to the front of the stand, Belle positioned the astronomy books she had chosen in the center of the display. Perfect.

She looked around, savoring the sights and sounds of the celebration. The warm, summer air was charged with anticipation as crowds of townspeople trickled in and began visiting booths, ordering hot dogs and popcorn, and spreading fluffy blankets on the sand to watch the meteor showers. Damp with exertion and excitement, she wiped her palms on her skirt, which was decorated with red rosebuds.

"Belle, why don't you go explore?" Mary Margaret said, interrupting her gawking. "You've been standing there staring with your mouth hanging open for at least 10 minutes."

"Oh! I'm sorry," Belle said, clapping her hands on her flushed cheeks. She glanced apologetically at each one of her friends, but all of their faces were wreathed in bright smiles. "I forgot what I was doing. It's all so breathtaking!"

"Go on." Aurora encouraged her to leave with a gentle push. "Shoo!"

"But I'm supposed to be helping," Belle said, shaking her head. "And we've just begun."

"The festival is five nights long, Belle," Emma said. "There is plenty of time for you to work. Tomorrow evening you can have the booth all to yourself while Mary Margaret and Aurora snog their True Loves under the stars. Me? Graham has asked me to divide my time between the booth and patrolling the grounds." She patted the holster hidden beneath her shirt. "Not that we're expecting any disturbances, but the assistant sheriff always has to be on guard."

Belle nodded her understanding but hesitated. She longed to stroll around and taste all the wonders of the festival, but she didn't want to rush off and leave her friends to do all the heavy lifting. "Are you sure?"

"Positive!" All three of them chorused in agreement, reminding Belle of a tiny yet mighty cheerleading squad.

"Well, all right then." She beamed at her friends and ambled down a gravel-lined path. When she and Emma had driven in, she'd noticed an exhibit celebrating the history of the town. Could there be a better place to start?

Belle's inner geek glowed with pleasure as she paged through old photo books and read about the town co-founders Henry Mills and George Nolan. Mary Margaret's parents and grandparents were also lauded as Storybrooke pioneers, and Sheriff Graham Humbert was featured as one of the town's modern heroes, as was Doctor Victor Whale.

She ran her hands along the creased photos and worn plaques. Now here was something fascinating: _Storybrooke's Mystery Hero._ The town had an anonymous benefactor. Someone who bankrolled the schools, orphanage, and community center whenever a problem surface or additional funding was needed. Belle remembered hearing about a family who had lost everything in a fire, only to miraculously be gifted with a brand new, fully furnished home. For weeks they asked the donor to come forward, but no one ever did. Clearly this person didn't want to be recognized for his or her services, which only fueled Belle's interest. She loved a good mystery.

Lost in her learning, she was suddenly jostled by a throng of revelers walking behind her. Thrown back slightly, she bumped into someone. "Ooof!" Belle grunted as the breath left her body and an electric current crackled up her spine. People passed by her on all sides and Belle shivered.

She'd run into plenty of people in her 28 years, but it had never felt anything like _that._ The sensation was totally foreign and…exhilarating. Like she'd been running for miles, yet had the stamina to go on forever. Inhaling deeply to calm her pounding pulse and racing heart, Belle turned around to apologize.

No one was there.

Whomever she had touched had vanished into the crowd. Trying to catch up, she craned her neck and ducked around families and between couples, hoping for a flash of recognition.

But it was too late. Arriving at the edge of the beach, she peered into the sky just as a long, slow, brilliantly hued star traversed the heavens. The earthgrazer skimmed across the horizon like a stone skipping across the surface of a pond.

Belle shivered anew as she followed the rare, colorful meteor. She had a peculiar feeling that something magical was about to happen.

 _Up Next: While Darach squires Grace around the festival, he meets Belle French at the book booth._


	2. Books and Ice Cream

**NIGHT TWO: 6:00 p.m.**

The second evening of the Sky Fire Festival was a scorcher.

Undeterred by the unseasonable warmth, Darach whistled as he walked toward the fairgrounds, enjoying the rhythmic thump of his cane on the asphalt.

Tonight he had his favorite 8-year-old all to himself, and the sticky weather made it a perfect evening for some low key games, ice cream, and lemonade on the beach.

He was looking forward to the festival. That was odd in itself. However, it also felt promising. But it was more than the anticipation of Grace's company that had put a spring in his step.

Last night, he'd been en route to the apple dumpling stand when he was caught in a crush of people heading toward the Ferris wheel. He'd collided with someone back-to-back. Instantly, he'd felt a current race up his spine and explode through his limbs, rendering him both energized and breathless. It was as though he'd swum the English Channel but was now prepared to dive into the Atlantic Ocean. Never in his 45 years had he felt a sensation quite like it. He had looked around to see who he'd crashed into, but the person had already melted into the moving mass of people.

Since then he'd felt an unexpected combination of hope and expectancy. That strange collision was on his mind when he'd gone to bed last evening and when he'd woken this morning. Now, as he drew closer to the activities, hearing the hum and whir of rides and games and the laughter of children, the memory once more rushed to the forefront of his brain. He shook his head as if to clear it. Darach Gold was no dreamer. He was a practical man, and what had happened—whatever it was—was meaningless.

He needed to snap out of it. Astute as he was, Jefferson would notice his wistful demeanor and the interrogation would begin.

Schooling his features into a benign expression, he arrived at dusk to find Grace and her parents peering into the sky. Jefferson made a sweeping motion and three sets of eyes followed the line of his long, elegant fingers.

"Hatter, wishing on a star will not improve your hairstyle," Darach said, referencing the lanky man's riot of dirty brown curls that added about 3 inches to Jefferson's already considerable height. With tonight's humidity, the mop had swelled to epic proportions. "You know, there are professionals you can seek out." Gold smirked over Alice's shoulder as he hugged first her and then Grace.

Jefferson squinted. "Are you still talking about my hair?"

"Probably not." Darach gave a wry smile.

"You're in a good mood tonight." Jefferson narrowed his eyes again and stroked his chin.

Grace tugged on Darach's arm, saving him from needing to respond. "Uncle Darach, guess what Daddy saw last night!" She didn't wait for an answer as she pointed toward the stars. "He saw a worldgazer. He said it means something wonderful is going to happen at the festival."

" _Earthgrazer,_ Gracie." Jefferson chuckled as he corrected his daughter. "It's a long, slow, colorful shooting star that appears early in the evening. Did you see it last night, old man? It's a good omen."

Darach gave his friend a fond smile. Jefferson was a devoted romantic. He hoisted Grace onto his hip and she wrapped her small hands around his neck. "I missed it!" he said. "Maybe there will be another. Gracie, I like your word. _Worldgazer_. It makes sense. That kind of star flies close to the earth and we can gaze at it for a long time before it disappears. And your dad's absolutely right—something wonderful _is_ going to happen. You're going to win that giant stuffed bear we spotted at the balloon game yesterday."

"Yay!" she cried, choking him with the intensity of her hug.

"You two go along now," Gold instructed Alice and Jefferson. "Enjoy your date and leave Grace and me to our mischief."

"Alice, I believe we've been dismissed," said Jefferson, wrapping his arm around his wife. He nodded at Gold. "We'll meet you on the beach at 9'o'clock. Text me if anything changes."

Alice kissed the top of Grace's head and smoothed her light brown braids. "Watch your uncle, honey. Make sure he doesn't cause too much trouble."

"Ha!" Jefferson hooted as they strolled away. "Gracie's gonna have her hands full!"

Arm-in-arm, they disappeared around the bend, and Darach gave Grace a conspiratorial wink. "Good, they're gone. Let's go play games and fill up on fried food and ice cream. Point me toward the corndog stand."

For the next two hours, they alternated between visiting snack booths and playing games. Between mouthfuls of a soft pretzel dripping with mustard, Grace pleaded with Darach to help her win a goldfish. Darach knew that fair fish didn't fare well. Instead, he offered to take her to the pet shop tomorrow for some healthy fish and a tank, as long as her parents gave the go-ahead.

At last they arrived at the balloon game with the giant plush bear prize. Darach paid for both of them to play and throw darts at the board to try to pop the balloons. Several games later, Grace and Gold steered their dart toward a small red balloon and popped it, winning the prize. Gold motioned toward one of the humongous stuffed bears, but Grace had other ideas.

"Uncle Darach, what's that?" Grace stretched her arms towards a lone animal hanging in the mix of the giant bears. "The one that looks like a unicorn fish with the heart on its fin?"

Snickering at her description, Darach nodded. "It's called a Narwhal. It's a type of whale. And you're right, Grace, it's called the unicorn of the sea."

"I want it!" Squealing, Grace clapped her hands and jumped up and down with glee.

"What about the bear?" Darach asked as the game attendant retrieved the Narwhal.

"But this one's so cute and all alone. There's nothing else like it!" Grace accepted the giant creature and cuddled it close.

"True. Too many bears and not enough Narwhals. You'll be the talk of all your friends for giving him a home." Darach pinned Grace with a serious look. "Have you chosen a name? If it's Madam Narwhal, I don't want to offend her by calling her a 'him.'"

"That's her name, Uncle Darach. How did you guess? She loves you already." Grace nuzzled Darach's cheek with the mystical whale.

"Well Madam Narwhal and Miss Grace, why don't we get some ice cream?" Darach took hold of Madam Narwhal's fin as Grace held the other, and together they balanced the huge, stuffed whale.

Ice cream cones in hand, they were soon walking along the path towards the booths selling wares and crafts. Madam Narwhal was safely ensconced in Darach's arms while Grace enjoyed her treat.

Grace pinched Darach's sleeve and pulled him toward a book stand he hadn't noticed last tonight. "Uncle Darach, can we go look at the books? Madam Narwhal needs me to read to her tonight so she's not frightened."

"I think she's very happy you're taking such good care of her." Darach finished his ice cream and cast a sidelong glance at Grace's sloppy cone. She seemed content, but the humid evening air was melting the confection quickly.

A lone woman worked the booth, assisting another customer while he and Grace perused the children's books. Grace exclaimed over a hard cover book bearing the silhouette of a badger, mole, rat, and toad. It was a lovely copy of _The Wind in the Willows_ and it looked expensive. Gold was just about to offer to hold the ice cream when Grace grabbed for the book. _Splat!_ Her melting ice cream fell from her cone, dribbling across the opened pages.

Grace let out a startled cry and met Darach's eyes. "I ruined it!" Bursting into sobs, she rubbed her eyes and howled. Shoving the Narwhal between his knees, Darach reached into his pocket for napkins. He began dabbing at the book's pages, trying to wipe away the pink ice cream before the gooey candies sticking to the delicate pages worsened the mess.

"It's all right, darling." He soothed Grace as he mopped up the spill, but it seemed to be getting worse. "We can fix this."

* * *

Belle studied the little red hearts on her painted fingernails and heaved a sigh.

She was surrounded by happy couples—people kissing, holding hands, and staring into each other's eyes. No, it wasn't Valentine's Day, but love perfumed the air like the scent of Meadow Rue.

Belle had been so excited about the Sky Fire Festival, but so far it was a bit of a disappointment. Expectations. They were her own worst enemy. Occupied by their own True Loves or obligations, none of her friends had found time for her these last couple of days. Emma was working tonight and had a date tomorrow; David and Mary Margaret were enjoying a picnic on the beach; and Aurora and Mulan had decided to drive down the coast.

Leroy and Astrid Kline, who had met at the festival five years earlier, strolled by and waved.

She dared not desert her post—that wouldn't be right—but not many people were interested in looking at books. She supposed it was only natural; they were at a meteor festival and would rather gaze at the stars than at pages.

After finishing with her only customer of the evening, she returned to _Anna Karenina._ The meteors were beautiful, but after a while watching them solo became a lonely pastime.

Her halfhearted reading was interrupted by cries of dismay. Belle snapped her head up. The sounds was coming from the opposite corner of the booth.

A bewildered gentleman was trying to comfort a sobbing little girl with one hand while swiping a fistful of napkins across a book with the other. Clamped between his knees was a giant stuffed whale with a horn on its head, as well as a gold-tipped cane.

It was a comical scene, and Belle would have laughed if the child wasn't wailing in despair and the man didn't look so forlorn as he stroked her shaking shoulders. He finally dropped the dirty, crumpled napkins, the cane, and the stuffed animal in the gravel to crouch down and wrap his arms around the little girl.

"Is everything all right?" Belle asked, crossing the booth. "How can I help?"

Still patting the child's back he gave her a helpless look. "My niece dropped her ice cream on this valuable copy of _The Wind in the Willows_. I've tried to clean it, but I'm afraid it's beyond repair."

"You know your books, sir." Belle shivered as his low, melodic brogue rolled over her in waves. Was his accent Scottish? For some reason she felt relieved to know that the little girl was not his daughter.

He was dressed in dark jeans and a very fine, very thin white linen shirt rolled up to the elbows that accentuated lean, tanned forearms. His shoulder length brown hair was slightly grey at the temples. It framed an angular face with high cheekbones; intelligent, almond-shaped eyes the color of warmed whiskey, and a long, strong nose. His well-formed lips were thin and perfect, and Belle fought the urge to brush a finger across his mouth to see if they were as soft as they looked.

"Miss?" He cleared his throat.

She startled at the sound of his voice, blushing. "I'm sorry?"

He looked at her expectantly, awaiting a response. Oh my God, he'd been talking to her. Carrying on a one-sided conversation while she'd been looking him over like a piece of meat. And in front of a child no less.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," he said. "I was just saying I will pay for the book, plus extra for your trouble." He looked contrite, as did the little girl whose face was still wet with tears.

"That's not necessary." She smiled at the pair and then bent low to talk to Grace. "It was an accident, wasn't it sweetheart?"

The little one nodded and gave a pathetic sniffle. Belle guessed her to be around age 7 or 8.

"Dry your tears now," Belle cooed, offering her a handkerchief embroidered with tiny pink hearts. "My name's Belle. What's yours?"

"Grace," she said as her chin wobbled. She mopping her own face and then returned the sodden scrap of cloth.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Grace. Who's your friend?" She shifted her gaze briefly to Grace's companion. Belle felt a pang of guilt for asking this sweet little girl to be a buffer, but she really wanted to meet this intriguing man without looking like a fool. All evening she'd been pining for someone to talk to, someone to get to know. She couldn't explain it, but she wanted, needed to know him.

"This is Uncle Darach," Grace answered with solemn pride. "Everyone calls him Mr. Gold. Except me, 'cause he's my uncle. He buys me presents and ice cream and takes me places."

"Mr. Gold. He sounds wonderful," Belle murmured, fastening her eyes on his handsome face. He colored and they both looked away, a bubble of tension forming between them.

"Oh, and he's not married," the child volunteered.

Belle looked at Gold again. He was beet red. Fingers shaking, Belle scrambled to change the subject. "Hey!" Belle noticed Grace's sleeveless dress and beamed, motioning towards her own. "Look at this, Grace. We're both wearing red sundresses. I guess that makes us twins! I've always wanted to be a twin and now I am, thanks to you."

At last the child cracked a smile and looked down, fingering the skirt of her eyelet dress. She spun around, a playful twirl that caused her skirt to billow and flare. She was enchanting, and Gold and Belle burst into peals of laughter.

"My turn now?" Belle asked.

Grace bobbed her head up and down in encouragement. Giggling, Belle stepped out from behind the booth and turned in a circle of her own. Then she grasped Grace's hands and they twirled around together until they were both laughing and dizzy.

"Here," Belle said to Grace, reaching under the booth for her handbag. "Since we both like to read, I have a little gift for you. Close your eyes and hold out your hand, please. No peeking."

Grace did as she was asked, and Belle placed a small silver hair comb on her palm, closing her fingers around the treasure. "All right, you may open your eyes now."

The child gasped in delight at the comb. "It's a book! A book I can wear in my hair! But wait. How did you know I liked to read?"

"You chose to come here to the book booth, didn't you? And you picked one of my absolute favorites. Now you must promise me to take very good care of that book, Grace. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Miss Belle. Thank you!" Grace wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed tight. Belle felt like the sun had burst inside her soul. There was nothing quite like the innocent embrace of a child.

Suddenly self-conscious and shy, Belle chanced another peek at Gold from beneath lowered lashes. His expressive eyes had darkened to the color of molten chocolate and his knuckles were white as they gripped the head of his cane.

She shimmied back behind the booth, wondering what he was thinking. Hopefully he wasn't angry with her. Was he?

Gold pointed toward a cluster of trees about 10 yards away. "Grace, why don't you take Madam Narwhal and your new book and go read to her for a few minutes? Over there where I can still see you. I'll be along soon. Right after I talk to Miss Belle."

"Ok." Grace nodded. "Are you going to talk about adult stuff?"

"Perhaps."

"Are you going to kiss?"

"No!" he said. "That is, ah, Miss Belle and I just met."

Smothering a grin behind her hand, Belle watched Gold give Grace a gentle nudge in the direction of the maple copse. He was flummoxed by his precocious niece and Belle found it absolutely adorable. Then he bent down to whisper something in Grace's ear, presenting Belle with his perfect backside. Round and perfect and delectable. Belle's mouth went dry as she watched those muscles clench and pull.

Grace scampered away, clutching her book and her Narwhal, the little silver book-shaped comb nestled in her hair.

Gold cleared his throat and rose, turning to face her. Cheeks flaming from studying his amazing rear end, Belle pretended extreme interest in a blob of melted cotton candy ice cream on the surface of the table. She smoothed her damp palms over her skirt, preparing for the worst.

"Thank you for what you did for Grace," he said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. He handed her several crisp bills for the ruined book. "For the comb, for being so kind to her. She has a sensitive spirit. But the book is too much. You must allow me to pay for it."

"Please put your money away," Belle said, some of the tension draining out of her. He wasn't angry after all. "It's only a signed copy, not a first edition." Feeling jovial, she winked.

He laughed. "So you like books?" He cocked his head, an almost impish look of interest on his face.

"What makes you say that?" Belle teased, glancing around at the piles surrounded her on all sides. "Yes, books are my passion. When I'm not reading, I'm talking about books, selling books, or thinking about which book I'm going to add to my collection."

"I like books as well," he said, flipping through the pages of a hand-illustrated edition of _The Secret Garden._ "In fact, I've just received a dozen antique books at my shop. Perhaps you would care to come in tomorrow and take a look at them? Maybe you will find something you want to offer at the booth. If they sell, I'll split the profits with you."

Belle beamed, thrilled with the prospect. "You would do that?"

"Of course," he said. "In fact, I insist. You must allow me to do something for you in exchange for your kindness toward Grace."

"That's very generous of you, Mr. Gold. I would love to come to your shop and see your books." She started stacking books into bins, preparing to close down the booth for the night.

"Call me Darach, please."

"Darach." She tested the name on her tongue, savoring the richness of it. "What a distinguished name."

"Let me help you," he said, shifting a table to slide into the booth beside her. He began depositing books into bins as well. "When we're finished here, shall we collect Grace and take a stroll down to the beach?"

Belle's cheeks ached from smiling. Grace's minor mishap had led to a chance encounter she wouldn't soon forget. This was the happiest she had felt in a long time. "I would like that," she said.

###

 _Up Next: Gold and Belle make a deal to spend the festival together._


End file.
